Never
by ThisWorldWeHate
Summary: ONE-Shot about Max and how she feels after Dylan rapes her. No fang. No wings. NO sequel. Feedback appreciated, Flames are NOT.


The screen door slams behind me and I wince. I take the stairs two at a time, skipping the creaky ones. My parents can't know I was out tonight. I tip-toe in to the bathroom, the mirror still foggy from my brothers shower earlier. I wipe a hole clean and stare at myself. My thick black hair, streaked with red, makes it look like I was attacked by a wild animal, which I guess is sort of true. My makeup, done up so well earlier, now streaks down my face, black on white. The tears, still not dry, have made my face puffy beyond belief and I can feel new ones approaching as reality sets in at last. I whisper softly to my reflection, the words that I never thought would ever go through my mind. "My name is Brittney Fulend, I'm 17, and Dylan Colten just raped me.

I guess I should explain myself. See, Dylan was, until about an hour ago, my loving boyfriend, and today, well yesterday now, was our 2 year anniversary. Only one problem. I was, and still am, grounded. So instead of pushing back the dinner, I snuck out. We ate, but my parents weren't quite asleep so we went to his house to "hang out". I guess I should have asked what that meant.

I can't tell my parents. They won't care; all they care about is control. They would say it's what you get for sneaking out. Heck they might even congratulate him. No, they are not an option. My brother is out, at 15, Dylan could crush him like a bug. I make up my mind, I can't tell. I can't risk it. I would never live with myself if they got hurt.

I raise my head, shaking, sniffling, and my thoughts turn for the worst. My mind storms me with the words he said. _Look at you. Worthless. You will never be good enough. What boy would want a girl like you?_ And the worst, the one that echoes the most, _**I love you. **_Those three words, said countless times by me, but as I sit and think, I began to realize he never said it bad. I think that's what hurts the most.

I am up all night. Crying, trying not to alert my parents. In the early hours of the morning, I take a blade to my skin. The blood drips down my arm, to the sink. And for just a fleeting moment, the pain is gone. It returns, but it's physical this time. Thank goodness today is Saturday; I can stay in bed for a while. I wrap my wrist, and collapse into bed. I know as soon as try, that I will not sleep, but when my parents come to check on me, I pretend. I'm good at faking things. Especially from the people I love, but that list has just shrunk by one. And I'm sure there will be more.

I slept the entire weekend. The only breaks in my long nap were for the bathroom. And food. And of course the recurring nightmare of Dylan and that night. Of all the times I said I love you, and he never said it back. Most dreams are forgotten when you wake. But these didn't. They probably never will.

School is… not fun. For one thing, I've never really been popular. The cheerleaders are jerks, or at least they were. When I started dating Dylan, who plays basketball, they backed off a little. But now, it's unbearable. See, Dylan, being the jerk he is, said** I** broke up with him. He made up a huge sob story about me taking him to dinner and dumping him in front of everyone, and then proceeded to cry in the lunchroom. Now, I am the most hated person in the school. Plus its 90 degrees outside and I have to wear long sleeves to cover my wrist. I cut nightly now. I'm addicted. But the physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional. I think I'm going insane. I'm too gone to care.

It's been 9 days. And I still feel just as crappy as the hour after. I ditched school yesterday, they (the cheerleaders) were awful on their own, but add Dylan, the lying idiotic, faker he is, walking around like **I** hurt **HIM. **That could be the furthest thing from the truth. My world is crashing down around me. I need to fix this. I should fix this. But I'm not going to. It's too late now.

I skipped school all week. Said I was sick, which I am. Sick and tired of my life

Today I got pulled aside by the counselor. She asked if I was depressed. I said I was just tired. She said to come to her if I never needed anything. I need a lot of things, but she can't give them to me. I need Dylan to apologize. I need my parents to care. I need my life to be better. But most of all I need him to say it back. Just once. Even though I know now he won't mean it. He never meant anything.

_**A/N This is a one-shot. I wrote this for school, and I will not write a sequel.**_


End file.
